Marvel- What If?
by Conman1
Summary: What if Peter Parker had three brothers? What if each gained unique abilities from an ill-fated science trip? What if they were the first to put on the pajamas and start playing hero during the night? What if a certain god meddles? What if they bore witness to the birth of an entire Marvel-Universe? What if I said you might actually like my story? Then come on in!


**Hello everyone!**

 **I suffered a work injury right before the end of summer, so unfortunately, I wasn't able to get any pre-righting done and was left with my whole hand covered in bandages. My hand is doing much better now and my senior year is going great so far, so I might be updating more frequently than before my injury.**

 **I'm truly sorry about the long hiatus! :p**

 **Enough about me being an invalid covered in blisters and burns, you want to know "Why start a third story?" right?**

 **Well, where** **Hunter's Moon** **and** **G.I. Joe** **were two stories I've always wanted to do ever since I was younger, this particular idea was fleshed out with the help of my good friend** **NeoNazo** **almost a year and a half ago now, but the idea simply sat inside a pm-thread gathering digital-dust.**

 **It was all put into real motion after reading the great story** **"Unnoticeable"** **by** **FrivioulusThoughts** **, which shows a young and inexperienced Spider-Man witness the birth of an entire super hero community.**

 **I found the idea to be so tantalizing in terms of plot lines, that I wanted to write something similar, as other stories with the same general premise don't go past the second chapter, and are just terrible in spelling, punctuation, and story telling.**

 **However, I've kinda' grown tired with the idea of Spider-Man being inexperienced or less-heroic in comparison to any of the other characters, despite starting so young and having the** **best** **Rouges-Gallery alongside Batman.**

 **I love Tom Holland, and I love Frivolous' story… but I like the idea of a more experienced hero, and that (before Spider-Man showed up) there weren't any real "super heroes" by the definitions most people use, and that he would be a reluctant icon for other people who wanted to be heroes.**

 **My story holds our favorite web-head as the epicenter of the continuity as the "World's First Super Hero"… due to several technicalities.**

 **Meeting people who'd eventually become legends, and giving help to guys like Daredevil who think a turtleneck-sweater is proper crime-fighting-attire… while also having super-powered siblings, and dealing with a crime infested NY makes a pretty hectic schedule for ol' web-head.**

 **Lets get on with the story! As always reviews, questions, and pm's will be answered so don't be afraid to write.**

( **Words =** emphasize the word)

( _"Words"_ = Thinking)

( _Words:_ = Places and times)

( **Words** = New Titles/names and written words)

( (Words) = small notes)

( ***Words*** = sounds)

(- = a line break)

* * *

 **Ending and Starting**

 _Asgard:_

 _Hall of heroes:_

 _Ten years into the future:_

Heroes… a simple word.

But that word has many interpretations, and it can be argued that some people could even be considered the physical representation of that interpretation.

But what is the **best** interpretation of a hero? If you asked anyone in the large feasting hall filled with soldiers, scientists, vigilantes, oddities, and even gods… they'd point over to the head of the table, where four mortal men sat, as the guests of honor.

If you were to ask why, others would likely tell you something they had heard from the four mortals repeatedly.

"With great power, must also come great responsibility."

Great words, spoken by an even greater soul. And continually taught by four equally remarkable young-men.

They had stared-down horrors from the darkest of nightmares, had challenged powerful mad-men, had trounced cosmic beings, and had humbled gods.

While their physical forms were slender compared to most of the people present, they had recently battled and defeated a villain of great intelligence and power, who sought more by stealing from the king of the Norse gods, **Odin**.

The first of the four was also the youngest… relatively speaking. He was the shortest of the group but was easily the broadest of shoulder, and was also the most approachable. He sat closely with a beautiful amazon of emerald.

The second youngest was the most mature and of the four, he reminded people of a Zen-master or a hippie in his "forgive and forget" attitude, but was also known to take the problems and pains of others upon himself to make them feel better…Though most of the time he got on people's nerves for how he phrases things. He held his uninjured arm around the shoulder of a beautiful wild-woman, an equally wild infant nestled between them.

The third eldest was also the leader, using jokes more often than his brothers both as shield and a weapon, being weighed down with intense amounts of responsibility, while having the tendency to blame himself for the worlds problems. He doesn't enjoy people idolizing him, believing himself to be unworthy of such praise and adoration. A beautiful woman of vermilion leaned against his side.

The eldest of all was a protector, as simple as that. He was the eldest, and it was his responsibility to look after his brothers. He applied this same single-minded drive to anyone who had earned his respect and friendship, the students he teaches are cared for like they were his own children… despite his rude demeanor and "tough-love" approach. He felt and undertook great pain for others without complaint or struggle, feeling that it was penance for his failures and selfish actions. He subtly holds hands under the table with a beautiful and diamond-hard ice queen.

To anyone you asked, these four were living-legends. Men of pure heart and pure character. People of reason and intelligence, tempered with kindness and gentleness. Underdogs that proved the power of belief and determination. Heroes that were so simply, so indescribably, **good** … that they brought-out the good in others.

They weren't always like that…

There was once a time when they were selfish, vindictive, and jealous… even if it was justified.

Some say that: "True heroes are measured by the size and frequency of their mistakes"…

For them, it all started with one mistake…

The first, and worst mistake they ever made.

* * *

 _Earth:_

 _New York, Queens:_

 _Ten years earlier:_

 ***Bree! Bree! Bree!***

The shrill wail of an alarm went off with the evil and never-ending power of sunrise.

Four simultaneous groans of utter hatred and disgust for the little machine, which wailed so loudly, sounded off from four corners of the room.

Four bodies scrabbled out from under the sheets of each bed, almost at the exact same time four hands slapped down onto the top of the clock. No words were spoken as four teenagers prepared for the Friday that plagued all peoples at the ungodly hour known as "morning".

The sound of muffled arguments, bumping into walls, and the general noise of four teenagers all trying to get ready in one room at the same time echoed through the house… the sound of a normal morning to **Ben** and **May Parker**.

They had been together since they were just coming out of their teenage years and into young-adulthood, both having met at a "hippie commune" when they were ashamedly much more wild.

Ben was a handy-man of a significant caliber, able to do electric work, construction, and even helped design quite a sizable portion of modern New York in his younger days.

His brother was **Richard Parker** , the now deceased but still very well known scientist who inspired men like **Tony Stark** and **Reed Richards** to become the giants of thought that they were today. Both Ben and Richard had supported each other after the unfortunate death of their mother, who died only a year after their father... they had their disagreements, but both men had a moral code that belonged in keeping with the likes of **Captain America** … they also had some unfortunate experience with government agencies.

He was tall, broad shouldered, square jawed, and wore thin glasses. With the kind of demeanor you automatically categorize as a "cool dad", he kept his grey hair in a short ponytail as the only reminder that he lived during the "hippie-phase". He was born with the kind blue eyes that made ladies at PTA meetings swoon, and had the deep but loving voice that you could only equate with Santa Claus, or some great leader of the world.

His wife May Parker (Formerly Reilly) was relatively tall for the average woman, with warm brown eyes, short gray hair, and beautiful features of a strong woman who's raised four boys. Her voice was soft and kind, but could crack like a whip when somebody dared to mess with her family.

She knew Richard from her relationship with Ben, and later met Richard's wife Mary. May worked almost everywhere with almost any hobby or working-position that could fit into her schedule, and on top of all that was working on her nursing license.

"Here they come in three… two… one…-" May counts off on her watch while putting down a fourth plate of breakfast for her boys, stumbling, pushing, and comically self-censored curses are muttered amongst all four boys.

They all wear what could be average clothes for middle-class kids going to public school, thankfully not wearing much that was similar… considering their relations to each other. **Thomas** , **Peter** , **Michael** , and **David Parker** were your average genius-level high school students… and also happened to be **quadruplets**.

The first to a seat today is the youngest, David. He was the shortest by a few noticeable inches, and was also the broadest of shoulder, while still being thin as a rail. He was a boy of great intellect like all of his brothers, and had a certain eye for art and colors, he was May's youngest and so was doted on with great worry, and the poor boy just didn't really have the heart or the spine to stop her… but his jokes only come after one of his brother's, due to a lack of confidence.

He got his short chestnut-brown hair from his mother, which was dominant in her family.

The second to sit is Michael. He's the same height as the two eldest, the same thin, almost lanky frame, as well as having a distinct fondness for music. He's very calm and "go with the flow", almost to the point of being confused for a stoner, if it weren't for his incredible grades. He jokes as well, but is usually able to keep his brothers from making a bad impression… **usually**.

His hair is shaggy and longer than his brothers, but it never goes past his ears, and he always grooms it well… the black coloring in his hair is from his father, dominant in his family's follicles. (Ultimate Peter's hair-style before it was shortened… I don't actually know if there's a name for it.)

Third to a seat is Peter. He was the one that spoke for his brothers most of the time, as he was the most able get all of their thoughts across to a person in the best wording. He was on the tall but lanky side as well, and carried himself with the air of a dark humored clown… the brown haired boy was the only one out of his brothers with a girlfriend.

The final seat was filled with the eldest of the boys, Thomas. He was the most responsible of the four, but it seemed that the negative emotions of the other three were expressed through him… never really having a good day, and never really feeling too "peppy". Sarcasm that bites deep along with scathing insults are his bread-and-butter, but May and Ben know that the boy simply can't help it, he was too much like his mother to not be bothered by all the world's problems on a deep personal level.

He and Peter looked the most alike with their messy but short hair, though Tom looked more like his father due to the black coloration of his messy locks.

The boys all thanked May profusely for the large portions of what could only be described as, "genuine, American, home-cooking". After a large and hearty breakfast, the four boys give a synchronized goodbye and leave for school.

* * *

 _A few minutes later:_

 _Midtown High:_

The four boys had just entered the parking lot of their high school, when a high-class green and black stripped sports-car pulled into the parking space beside them.

The boy their age that left the vehicle was tall, athletically built, had defined and handsome features, and bright red hair slicked back with a moderate amount of hair gel… while also wearing some pretty expensive clothes.

This was **Harry Osborn** , son to one of the richest men in the world, **Norman Osborn**.

"Well, well, well. The four mega-nerds decide to grace us with their presence this early in the morning despite having late arrival until fourth period!" Harry gave out a semi-mocking round of slow-claps to emphasize the novelty.

Tom immediately got into the industrial heir's personal space.

"You got a problem moneybags?"

"Nah, just surprised the four of you aren't dry-humping a science magazine or something."

"That's funny, coming from the guy who was dating Sally last month."

"Oh come on man, sure she's a little science crazy…-"

Four looks of condescension blast his way.

"Ok, **very** crazy… but… that **body**!"

The two boys that looked like they were about to "fly-hands" moments before were now smiling at the Osborn's libido.

"Jeez Harry, do we need to put a chastity-belt on you or something? I could only imagine what Aunt May would say if she knew that types of harlots that skulked around you." Tom gives cruel grin to punctuate the threat.

Harry immediately sets into a legitimate panic. "Please don't let her cut me off from her cooking! I-… I don't think I could handle that!"

"You'd best watch out Harry, Tom would do it, just for the sick thrill of watching go into withdrawal." A husky and feminine voice calls across the crowded parking lot. The five boys look over to see a beautiful red headed girl standing with a bag over one shoulder, and hips canted sassily in hugging blue-jeans.

This was **Mary Jane Watson** , she had been best friends with all five boys ever since kindergarten, and had the brains and will to boss around five teenage boys with only a flip of her wrist. She was of average height, with long scarlet tresses that touched her waist, mischievous green eyes, and a supermodel-complexion. She was one of the best reporters on the school news-team, and was usually the director, and sometimes lead role, in almost all of the school productions… she also wasn't a slouch when it came to grades… it's pretty obvious why she's one of the most sought-after girls in school.

She casually walked up to the five, heeled boots clicking on the asphalt. She saddled up to David as he was the shortest of the five, and hung herself on the boy's shoulder with one arm… she didn't really acknowledge personal-space much… at all.

"What's up with the late arrival Red?" Harry inquired challengingly.

"Yea, sorry I'm late, but I had to stop by the church to pick up a soul for you Gingersnap."

No coherent words are said, as the diss was simply too hot and painful for words to describe… only four simultaneous and synchronized exclamations of suprise by the quadruplets.

"Damn Harry, you can't even be mad… you know the rules dude." Michael coaxes the teen with a net-worth of half a billion dollars.

He pulls out his wallet, and slips the girl a five dollar bill. "I know when I've lost." Harry groans.

They all start up the steps, but wait for the final member of their motley crew to arrive, and right on queue a car pulled up.

A beautiful blond girl exited, slipped her satchel onto her shoulder, and gave a wave goodbye before heading to the six teens. This was Gwen Stacy, one of the smartest people in their school, head of several clubs, daughter to the police captain, and-

"Peter!" ***Smooch!***

Girlfriend to Peter Parker.

Many around the school (staff included) wondered how a total **dork** with glasses could get a total **bombshell** like her, the main reason given to anyone that asks: "He's special, more than anything or anyone I've ever seen or met." usually leaves people with more questions than answers.

"So, you guys ready for the big trip today?" Gwen asks, one hand twining with her boyfriend's.

"… What trip?" David inquires, confusion clear on his and his brother's faces… Harry and M.J. realize what's going on, and try to stifle their laughter.

"You know, the trip to **Oscorp**. The whole reason why we get the school-day off?" Her reply is met with dead silence from the four boys.

"Holy shit, that's **today**!?(x4)" Four simultaneous exclamations break out, and the three friends can't help but burst out into hysterical laughter.

"Man, only you four could forget about something you have marked on your calendar and set your clock for!" Harry snorts, trying to not bust a gut at their expense.

"Whatever Harry, come on guys let's go." M.J. ushers them into the school and towards the area designated for the field trip sign-in, they would be taking Harry's car, rather than a bus, which would allow them to head home whenever they want.

"Ya' know… today's gonna' be a great day… I can **feel** it." Peter's declaration was somewhat out of the blue, but no one could disagree… Until one of the local jocks splashed him with a fizzy soda "on accident".

* * *

 _A few minutes later:_

 _ **Oscorp Sciences**_ _:_

 _Downtown:_

When they finally arrived, the group entered the lobby with the rest of the class, to see several scientists standing there waiting for them.

One man stepped forward, he was older and losing hair, but he had an almost grandfatherly nature about him.

"Hello everyone, my name is **Doctor Strom** , and I'm the Head of Research for Oscorp. The men and women you see before you, are my coworkers, some of the **brightest** minds in the world all under one roof. If you'll all follow me, then we can get started."

For almost an hour the students were awed by the scientific marvels they were being shown, but the four brothers were waiting for a very specific division to be revealed before they "nerd-gasmed".

"And now, we come to our second-to-last stop of the day. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our **Biological Division**." The lab was easily the largest they had seen thus far, four floors and almost as long as five high school chem-labs put together.

Gwen had left the brothers to look at certain prototypes of biomechanical equipment that had caught her interest, along with a few other students from a different high school. So the boys stood with another group as a woman began to speak.

"So as you can see, we have many different types of animals from several different species in our lab… anyone want to take a guess as to why?"

Peter raised his hand, as all four knew the answer.

"You're trying to recreate the **Super-Soldier-Serum**. But in order to actually see any results, as well as keep people safe, you use animals with identifiable and measurable traits." Peter's statement is so correct, that the woman is stunned for a moment.

She quickly recovers. "Yes, absolutely correct! You see, many animals in our world, such as insects, have certain traits that we can see very easily, and it makes studying the effects of each formula much easier for us. Unfortunately, early tests showed significant damage to the subjects bodies when injected with the many different serums, so we needed to find a way to ensure the survival of our test subjects. Does anyone know how?"

A girl raises her hand. "Steroids?"

"Something a bit more radical actually."

" **Cross-Species-Genetics** , with a significant amount of radiation." Michael states while looking at a small mouse that seemed to have no difficulty moving the metal blocks in it's enclosure despite them being much larger than itself.

"Yes… would you mind continuing?" She asks, surprised the boy who looks like a typical stoner would be so knowledgeable.

David continues meekly instead. "Cross-Species-Genetics allows for the most notable traits in the species to exist in one subject, allowing you to give the subject incredibly identifiable abilities, the radiation is to ensure the effectiveness of the DNA change."

"Correct, you four are from Midtown High right?"

"Yes, we are." Peter answers for the group.

"Well, anyway let's take a look over here shall we?" She leads the group over to four large display stacks, three holding a different species of insect, and one holding arachnids.

"The most successful groups we've had so far are these. The work our people have been doing has led to the creation of four sets of fifteen-genetically-designed "Super-Bugs" as some would say. We thought long and hard about what to use, and it was decided that the **Cockroach** , the **Praying-Mantis** , the **Spider** , and **Dragonfly** families would be best.

"There's only fourteen." M.J. states plainly.

"What?" The woman asks, perplexed.

"One is missing from each section." She points them out to the scientist.

"Hmm, they must be under observation then… but I really wish they would've waited until after you all left."

No one noticed a spider on a web began to descend towards the ground, a mantis jump and glide over to a book bag, a cockroach skitter near a shoe, and a Dragonfly zoom almost silently around the nape of someone's neck.

"Why pick these insects though?" A boy asked.

* * *

"Well… the cockroach has the ability to run several times it's body length in only a few seconds, what we calculate would be several hundred miles per hour in human-sized measurements, along with an incredibly durable and efficient biology makes them physically strong enough to contend with all kinds of predatory insects and arachnids." The roach began to climb up a pant leg, looking for somewhere to rest.

"The Praying-Mantis has incredible reflexes, can blend into almost any environment, have powerful jumps, and when they use the protrusions on their forelegs nothing can really hope to survive an encounter with them… most prey don't even know they're in the area until it's too late." The mantis now sat on a shoulder, waiting for the slightest provocation.

"The spider, much like the mantis and dragonfly, is an apex predator. The ability to ensnare any prey with their webs, and the many ways they can hunt and stalk ensure that they never go hungry, and are never on the menu." The spider descended more, lowering to a hand that was taking pictures after the woman had started discussing facts the person already knew.

"And the dragonfly is made of some pretty stern stuff, able to survive against other predators with almost no injuries. Their flight is part of their greatest weapons though, they can hover like a helicopter or zoom around like a fighter jet, add in a complex brain which allows it to make flight corrections down to the microsecond, and you have mother nature's Harrier-Jet." The dragonfly now rested fully on the nape, looking around for a meal.

* * *

"Guys, you've got to check this out!" Gwen whispered excitedly to the four, they all turned to go with her… and that motion was all that was needed, as the four creatures bit downwards in their surprise.

The boys all felt sharp pains in different parts of their bodies, then nothing… just a numbness that was steadily growing throughout their forms. The boys immediately felt sick, down to their very bones… it felt like they were slowly melting, while somehow freezing to death.

Gwen noticed almost instantly that all four boys had a sickly pallor about them, and asked if the felt like they needed to leave. They all nodded as one, and Tom mumbled almost unintelligibly about taking the subway, and that she should stay with M.J. and Harry.

Gwen was hesitant, but she allowed them to go, feeling that if it was truly bad, they would let her know.

And so the four signed-out with their teacher, and stumbled their way to their train home.

* * *

 _Same time:_

 _Oscorp Military Division:_

Doctor Strom had left the tour group, and passed through several checkpoints before entering a very large lab filled with scientists and equipment. He trotted down the stairs looking for his boss, finding him standing with several high ranking military officials.

"Ah, and here he is now. Ladies and gentlemen, my Head of Research, Doctor Strom." A man spoke while gesturing over to the doctor.

He was tall, athletic, middle aged, had his red hair trimmed short, and wore a lab coat over an expensive suit. This was Harry's father, Norman Osborn, one of the richest men in the world.

"Hello everyone, I hope you've got your checkbooks ready, because my team has some incredible prototypes set out for you today." Strom said while motioning over to one of his workers with his hand.

The young man wheeled up a cart covered in small disks no bigger than a credit card.

"First up for today, we have what we like to call our " **Micro-bats** ", they might seem small, but in the hands of someone who knows what they can do…" Strom points over to a gelatin-torso hiding behind a steel plate.

The assistant picks up a disk, winds back his arm, and throws.

 ***Chink!* *Fshashahaha!***

 ***Slink!***

The disk unfolded halfway to it's target, slicing through the metal plate and the torso, leaving only a gaping wound.

"Of course, if you don't feel that taking prisoners is worth your time…" Strom hands the assistant a silver and green ball, no bigger than an apple.

The assistant presses a button and tosses it under-handed at the plate and torso.

 ***Chink!* *Fshehehehehe!*** The ball burst open releasing almost twenty bladed objects, each one larger than the Micro-bats by several inches of blade length.

The Metal plate and Torso were decimated. All that was left was a couple slabs of goop.

"The " **Razor-bats** " should do just fine." Strom declared a little smugly.

"We've already seen all this and your explosives, and your armor systems, and we've already told you that none of this equipment is **useful** army-wide for any country… maybe on a **super-soldier** -…" A graying Army General speaks dismissively to the doctor and his boss, before being interrupted.

"And as we've told you before **General Ross** , the right kind of serum has not been found yet, and even if it was, only the President themselves would be allowed to come and take it… not some old, half-baked, gunslinger who has to twist the arms of **Samson ** and **Banner** just to make any real scientific progress." Osborn rebukes the older man, and they both seem ready to come to blows.

"Gentlemen, we can talk about how unique and irreplaceable Captain America was another time… why don't we all take a look at the finished **Glider-Tech**?" The scientist coaxes, trying to calm them down… but the look Norman sends him, has him knowing that he should remember when to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

 _An hour later:_

 _Queens:_

The four boys arrived home in a stupor, Ben and May were still out working, and the boys began stumbling around their homes in an almost blind sickness.

It wasn't until David began to vomit uncontrollably into the bathroom sink that they all realized something was truly wrong. They all barely made it down the stairs to the basement, where their own makeshift lab was set up… each one feeling worse by the moment.

Peter had taken a small needle and pricked his finger before taking the sample under their microscope, what he saw shocked his addled mind.

His cells were breaking down… possibly even his DNA itself. He tried to explain such to his brothers, but he began coughing blood into his hands.

David would have noticed… if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were beginning to bleed profusely, so much to the point that he was going blind.

Tom's body seemed to have broken out into a **violent** greenish-red rash, large plots of skin beginning to bleed as well.

Michael's forearms and legs had huge patches of skin flaking off like old paint, leaving only pulsating and oozing muscles underneath.

All the boys were suddenly hit with soul shaking migraines that felt like it should've been **lethal**. The migraines ceased after twenty minutes, but were replaced with violent seizures and spasms that wracked their bodies painfully, they all began to froth from the mouth at one point or another.

They finally slipped into blissful unconsciousness after nearly an hour of the worst pain they had ever felt. Peter slumped over the microscope, David face down on the couch, Michael curled into a painful ball on the lazy-boy, and Tom slumped against the wall… they **should** have died right there, but they did not, because great power is **not** so easily thrown away.

* * *

 _The Basement:_

 _The Next Day:_

 _Early Morning:_

Peter awoke to the taste of blood in his mouth and a splitting headache, he stumbled over to the bathroom and washed his face. When he went to put his glasses back on, he noticed something strange… his vision was **incredible**. It was as if his eyes had suddenly improved over-night.

When his brothers came back to the land of the waking, they also reported incredible vision, hearing and smell, and they were terrified when they realized they could hear Aunt May and Uncle Ben's heartbeats… through the house's floor.

For several weeks, the boys felt themselves become stronger, faster, and more resilient. No one noticed, and the four were able to play it off, but they were still unsettled by the strangeness of their abilities in the privacy of their lab.

"I'm telling you guys, I almost ripped the locker door clean off the hinges. I was lucky as **fuck** that no one noticed anything." Tom argues, the other four admitted to feeling stronger, but none of them could come close to destroying a school locker on accident… at least they couldn't possibly have **before**.

"I agree with Tom on this, we aren't simply recovering from some illness, those cross species animals did something to us that changed our bodies significantly." David put forth the theory they all agreed upon.

"Yeah, I mean, we're suddenly developing muscle-mass without doing anything that would produce them… I'm actually kinda' worried about what might happen if I high-five Harry or something." Michael pointed out their increased strength's possible detriments.

"Well gentlemen… I have a place in mind where we can see just how… " **changed** " we are, be sure to bring the camera." Peter stated while getting his hoodie ready.

* * *

 _A few Minutes Later:_

 _Docks:_

 _Empty Warehouse:_

The boys had set up their camera, and were about to perform some tests.

"All right, Strength Test commencing. Object? A rusted out car approximately 2,000 pounds in weight." David stated to the camera, while holding up a sheet of cardboard with names and tally marks written on it.

First up was Michael, and while he was able to get the back of the car off the ground with no problem, he seemed to have trouble lifting any more than that.

Peter was second to try, getting almost the whole thing off the ground, only the front tires and bumper still touched the concrete.

David achieved the same result as Peter, though with significantly less effort.

Tom lifted the car as if it weighed nothing, but as the four continued lifting it each turn, they noticed it became easier with each attempt.

Michael deduced that in a month or so, they would be able to lift **several** cars at once, but their current levels of strength compared to each other would probably remain the same as it was now.

They all attempted to stick to different surfaces, and each of them was able to crawl along the walls, rusted cars, and even the ceiling without a care.

They did their best measuring standing jumps and running leaps, but they all jumped far above the measuring tape they had beside them by at least twenty feet.

They wanted to test their reflexes, and began throwing baseballs at each other when they least expected it, but when Peter caught the ball without even looking or realizing that it had been thrown did they suspect a strangeness to their abilities.

"How did you know it was coming?" David asked, holding the camera up to keep all of them in the frame.

"I don't know. One second I didn't even know, and then suddenly it was like I could "see" behind myself and I could feel this... **tingle** … in the back of my skull."

The boys all looked at each other, Tom pulled a black rag out of his pocket and tied it over Peter's eyes like a blindfold. "Let's do it again, and see what happens to you this time."

Michael wound his arm back, and threw the ball with superhuman strength just like before.

 ***Fwoosh!***

Just as before, Peter's hand shot out and snatched the ball as if he didn't even have the blindfold on… the boys were astonished when they re-watched the footage, noting that Peter's body began moving at the **same** time Michael's hand did. It wasn't quick reflexes like before, this was something that alerted him of the danger **before** it even fully became one.

David and Tom tested positive with the precognitive sense as well, though Tom's seemed ever so slightly slower, but when Michael stepped up for the test…

 ***Fwoosh!***

 ***Snikt!***

 ***Swish-thunk!***

Rather than catch the ball or smack it away like his brothers did, Michael had jammed the ball into the floor with his elbow… and his brothers saw why.

Four spikes had popped from his forearm, curving towards his elbow, pierced the ball and the concrete floor all in in one move. Each spike was obviously some kind of human-sized version of the protrusions that all mantis have on their own arms… but closer inspection showed that these spikes had a very mild sheen of metal along them.

It took several moments, but Michael was eventually able to retract the spikes and bring them back out again. Tom noted that several muscles in Michael's forearms were present that did not exist before, meaning that he **grew** new muscles for such an ability.

They could only guess that several minerals and metals within his body seemed to coalesce into these spikes, while still being hollow enough to grow back if needed to be replaced.

* * *

The next test was durability, as the boys were worried about possible injuries their friends could gain due to accidentally touching them.

Peter had managed to find an old bat in a nearby garbage can, and they all decided to take turns smaking each other on the arm with it… as all intelligent teens are wont to do.

David was first up, and surprisingly the bat seemed to take damage, while David reporting that it hardly even stung with the level of strength they were swinging onto his arm.

Peter had a similar level of resistance, though the bat seemed to be doing worse without their notice.

Michael had detailed the first strike too his arm felt somewhat weak, and asked David to try again but harder, the result was the same but the brothers noted that Michael's skin seemed thicker… much more combatively developed.

Tom was the last one up, and he was the one that had a significant reaction.

Peter lifted the bat.

Tom held out his arm.

 ***Whoosh!*** The bat came down.

 ***Crack!*** The bat shattered in two, splinters flying everywhere.

The boys simply chalked it up to him having a much tougher hide than them… until Peter saw a shimmer of green on Tom's bicep.

A splinter had cut him deeply.

They all noticed, and using a scalpel, carefully pulled the skin back on the wound to notice three things.

 **First** : Tom's skin had almost no relation to any layer of skin that would normally exist on them. The inside had a slight tinge of pink, where there **should** have been a bloody red.

 **Second** : Tom was **not** bleeding despite what a deep cut on the bicep, right next to a vein no less, would produce in a large quantity.

 **Third** : Tom seemed to have armored plates covering his entire bicep.

"So you can feel this?" David asks, flapping the skin around the cut wildly. "But it **doesn't** hurt?"

"Yes I can, and no it doesn't… now stop it."

Michael begins poking at the green plates with a pencil. "But you can feel **this** too?"

" **Yes** … now cut it **out**. Pete, prognosis?" Tom asks, looking at the second eldest, who is in deep in thought.

"Well… I think you should take of your shirt so we can check." Tom does, and the brothers begin trying to count the plates on his upper body… to no avail.

"I swear, every time I think I've counted right, I seem to find six smaller plates around the same spot… your whole **body** is covered in these plates man." David states, futilely writing tally marks in dry-erase marker on each finger and hand.

"So you can't feel a empty space? Any spot where there aren't plates?" Michael asks, tapping Tom's jaw line with a knuckle, trying and failing to accurately count the number of interconnected plates on his face alone.

"Well, now that you mention it… on my back, it's not an empty space but… I dunno, I can't really **describe** it." Tom thumbs to his back, Peter was checking a knee, and is the first one to start poking around.

He notices a, for lack of a better word, "scar" going vertically down his back on the right side. He notices that another "scar" goes down at the exact same length, on the opposite side of his spine. Touching the markings makes them spread apart ever so slightly, underneath rested plates with a "scar" as well.

An almost gelatin like green substance rested along those marks, like some kind of glue. Peter noticed that the plates were much more loose than others he counted on his brother's torso.

Permission was asked.

Permission was granted.

Carefully, peter managed to pry the plate away with his finger just enough to see underneath… and found something that truly shocked him.

His brother's skin was **not** replaced by armored plates… it was **under** the plates.

Beneath the shiny green and patterned plates, sat skin. Perfectly preserved and untouched, but only a shade paler than his "top" skin.

The other two came over to look as well, and were equally astonished that such an extreme and life changing metamorphosis had occurred in only a few weeks. Then David pointed out something on Tom's back that made them all stop and stare.

It **shouldn't**.

It **couldn't**.

It wasn't **possible**.

 **No**. **Fucking**. **Way**.

Tom was getting impatient. "All right fag-muffins, what's the problem?"

Michael, David, and Peter all looked at each other… and they all came to a unanimous agreement.

"Let's go to the roof.(x3)"

* * *

If they were correct… then all that was needed to spurn nature's weight was a little adrenaline.

Jumping off a 40-foot building would normally do the trick.

But they came very close to jumping that height, so it's not enough to necessitate the reaction they're looking for.

Push him off the building? The height was still an issue.

"So what the fuck are we up here for again, not that I'm cold (which is weird that I'm not), but I kinda think we're a bit suspicious standing up here like this." Tom was facing out towards the water. His brothers all looking at each other behind him.

It was early in the morning on a Saturday. The only people around were themselves, and druggies too high to remember their own names. Everyone knows that criminals only come around here at night, and the cops leave-them-be, due to being on "the take".

… No one would notice…

"Wait a minute… you guys wanna-...whoa…waitwaitwaitwait- **AHHH**!"

They lifted their eldest brother into the air…

And they threw him.

The wind screeched in his ears, whipped across his hair and face, and pulled the screams right from his lungs.

He rocketed through the air for several seconds, easily reaching several stories into the sky above the warehouses and water.

He slowly stopped rising, and suddenly he found no **reason** to scream, nestled in mother nature's weightless bosom.

This… was true freedom.

This was true peace.

And then he began falling.

 **Now** he had a **reason** to scream.

He did so, gladly.

" **FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!** **I'M GONNA DIE! FUCK YOU GOD, FUCK YOU CHARLES DARWIN, FUCK YOU GANDHI, FUCK YOU MIDTOWN-HIGH, (AND MOST IMPORTANTLY) FUCK MY ASSHOLE TWIN-BROTHERS!"**

"Damn we threw him **far** up… he's got time to cuss-out everybody he hates." Michael cups his eyes to see him.

"Well… when he gets close enough we'll catch him." David is recording the whole ordeal.

Michael retorts. "That's **if** he doesn't do what we **think** he'll do."

"He will, I know he will." Peter just stares resolutely, waiting to see something people always said would never happen.

The ground was getting bigger… no, he was getting **closer**.

* * *

He saw the ground rising up to meet him, and time seemed to slow down.

Underneath his back-plates, underneath his skin, four distinct shapes pushed outwards.

Shining, glossy, large, and undeniably beautifully patterned.

From his back they shot out and spread, and began moving quickly, harder and faster in perfect sync.

He stopped falling.

Suddenly Tom stopped falling… because he had **wings**.

He actually began to rise into the air again, under his own power.

His movements were jerky and unsteady at first, but he quickly found it to be as easy as breathing.

He… Was… **Flying** …

He was still screaming, but it was no longer in fear.

 **This** was true freedom.

 **This** was true peace.

As David, Michael, and Peter, stood on the roof, they watched Tom scream and yell with a joy they had never heard before.

He zoomed left, right, up, down and sideways. Performing incredible rolls and turns while stopping on a dime.

And as he flew through the air, the four brothers could only think of one thing.

 _"We are going to be_ _ **rich**_ _. We are going to be_ _ **famous**_ _. The world is finally being_ _ **fair**_ _for once."_

 _"We're about to get_ _ **everything**_ _that's coming to us."_

They had no idea just how right they were.

They had no idea just how "fair" the world could be.

But they were about to be taught such.

Painfully.

* * *

 **Well… I don't know what to say other than I hope you guys like it, and I hope to update all 3 stories far more often now.**

 **All comments, reviews, pm's, and angry flaming welcome!**


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